


A Favor

by apostapals (apostapal)



Category: Dragon Age II
Genre: F/M, M/M, Other
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-07-16
Updated: 2016-07-16
Packaged: 2018-07-24 06:55:35
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,984
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7498497
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/apostapal/pseuds/apostapals
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Justice needs help with a Secret Plan and Hawke is just the person for the job.</p>
            </blockquote>





	A Favor

When Hawke felt someone nudging them, trying to woo them out of the line between sleep and waking, it wasn't all that odd to them. Anders never really slept well; he was prone to nightmares and fits of insomnia and even though he tried to keep it from disrupting Hawke's sleep they'd made it clear they didn't mind if he needed them to comfort him or talk him down from peeked anxiety.

“Mm? Bad dream?”

Hawke blinked, trying to make out Anders' face hovering above them, and felt the mage take hold of their chin. They were vaguely aware of some unknown light source in the room but still too close to sleep to fully connect that it was coming from Anders.

“Hawke.”

Not Anders' voice. The Champion's eyes widened, sleepy haze finally clearing enough for them to make out the faint blue glowing in Anders' eyes.

“Justice?” they asked slowly.

Not-Anders nodded and shifted his grip on their chin to squeeze gingerly at their cheeks. He seemed lucid, almost calm, and Hawke realized this was the first time since being in the Fade they'd had an actual conversation with the spirit inhabiting their favorite healer.

“Wake up, Hawke.” he said, wiggling at their face slightly in what was apparently an attempt to rouse them from sleep, “I require your assistance.”

Maker, that voice was jarring coming out of Anders' mouth. The level of authoritativeness was something that gave Hawke flashbacks to their father's ' _I'm not mad, just disappointed_ ' speeches.

They shifted, sliding up to sit against the pillows, and Justice released their face—apparently content with their level of wakefulness. He reclined back, legs folded under him, and watched them rub the sleep from their eyes. Justice controlled Anders moved differently; his entire being seemed unsure of itself. As if he still wasn't used to moving limbs or even breathing.

“What do you... need help with?” Hawke asked.

“Merrill spoke of a litter of kittens the other day.”

Hawke raised a brow and nodded at the spirit. They remembered; Anders' voice had gone soft when he spoke of tabbies and they'd briefly considered storming down to Lowtown themselves to get one.

“I believe Anders would benefit from a feline companion.” Justice continued, still speaking as if he was giving a motivational speech rather than having a conversation about kitties, “But I require your assistance in obtaining it without... his knowledge.”

“You need me to get Anders a surprise cat?” Hawke asked.

“There is more than that.” Justice replied curtly, “He worries it would not be safe or well cared for given our current situation. I need you to reassure him.”

Hawke nodded slowly, still dazed from sleepiness, and blinked. The spirit watched them, as if waiting for some answer, and frowned slightly.

“So what, I have to secretly get everything a cat needs and a cat without Anders catching on?”

Justice nodded.

Hawke thought of bringing in cat supplies and food and toys, all somehow without Anders noticing, and cringed slightly. The man had some sort of sixth sense, they swore it; he'd found a kitten in the Darktown sewers once and spent nearly an hour trying to coax it out somewhere safer.

Worse still, Hawke had to assume he had access to Justice's thoughts just as much as Justice had access to his own. This discussion alone could ruin the spirit's whole plan.

“I'll... see what I can do.”

“Thank you, my friend.” Justice nodded again and moved awkwardly to lay back down, “Obtain supplies and I will speak with you tomorrow night about what variety of cat to get. Be sure Anders remains unaware; my part in this is much more difficult to do that with than your own, I assure you.”

“O... kay.”

And, with that, Justice shut his eyes and the glow faded from Anders' skin. Hawke sat in the dark a moment, unsure of what to make of the conversation, and rubbed sleepily at their eyes. Their presence, though quiet, seemed to be enough to rouse Anders and they almost wanted to kick themselves when he rolled over and cracked an eye open.

“Something wrong, love?”

“Nooo~”

Smooth. Another mental kicking was in order as Hawke awkwardly shuffled back down under the covers.

Anders raised a brow at them and yawned, reaching out to take hold of their chin. As he leaned in to lazily press a kiss to their lips Hawke briefly thought of how much different the grip felt than when Justice had grabbed them earlier.

“Bad dreams?” Anders asked when he pulled away from their sleepy kiss, fingers trailing along Hawke's jawline. Hawke shrugged.

“Something like that.” they lied.

Had he not been so sleepy, the healer probably would have easily called them out on the fib. But, given the situation, they were lucky enough that Anders simply gave a little 'mm' of understanding and held his arms out to them.

Hawke nestled against his chest, sleep already taking the healer again as he rested his chin on their hair, and sighed in both contentment and relief. They draped one arm over Anders' waist and settled in, thinking of ways to achieve Justice's little plot until they finally drifted off.

The next morning, Hawke woke to an empty bed and a note on their nightstand.

_Headed down to check on patients. You were sleeping so soundly I didn't have the heart to wake you. Love, Anders._

Usually, they'd be a little sore about not getting a goodbye kiss. But the simple fact that they had the house to themselves was enough to get Hawke out of bed with a purpose.

Truthfully, they'd only ever owned dogs their life. But Anders spoke often enough about them that Hawke had a good idea what he'd need to get.

Milk and fish seemed to be treats, mostly. They'd have to find a feline something more substantial to eat otherwise. And it wasn't likely to happily eat the bones and scraps they gave the mabari. So first things first; food.

 

They ended up in the Lowtown market, browsing between different butcher stalls. So distracted in their quest of 'what to feed a kitten' they didn't even hear someone approach them.

“Those are awfully small for dinner at your house, Hawke.”

Hawke nearly jumped out of their skin, turning on their heels from the cornish hens to find Merrill peering up at them curiously. She smiled, unaware of quite how much she'd spooked them, and motioned to the stall behind them.

“Is this for a special occasion?”

Hawke blinked, unsure how to respond. They couldn't tell Merrill—this felt like it'd go against their promise to Justice. Keeping secrets was easier the fewer people involved. But perhaps she could be of some assistance all the same.

“S-sort of.” Hawke replied, glancing at the fowls, “Do you think the dog would like one?”

“Doesn't your mabari usually eat pig and cow meats?” Merrill asked, “I'm sure he wouldn't complain but... usually cats prefer poultry instead of dogs.”

Score!

“Mm, fair enough. Still, worth a shot to see if he likes it.” Hawke replied, picking one out and paying the merchant before Merrill could question this further.

Smoothly, they distracted Merrill from the subject by nudging her shoulder and turning towards another booth. “But just in case, do you know any butchers with cheap ham bones?”

“Oh, a few.” Merrill replied, beaming at Hawke as they set off through the market, “Usually, he just sells cheap to other elves, though. Here, I'll just pay with your coin.”

 

Hawke returned home late that evening, shopping for the prospect cat hidden among other bits and pieces of necessary daily items, and thanked Merrill for her help—which lasted most of the day—with a cup of tea before she departed to the alienage.

Meanwhile, Anders seemed to have an even later day than them and arrived home well after Merrill had left. He paused only for a moment to greet them in the library before shuffling off to make himself a bath.

The night went on in normal domesticity, Anders apparently too tired to even question why Hawke had bought a whole stack of blankets and apparently endeavored to take up some knitting soon. He fell asleep early and Hawke foolishly thought themselves safe to get to rest early too.

They'd been asleep nearly an hour before they felt someone prod their side. Had they been awake, they might have squeaked. Thankfully, their response was more or less jolting awake and staring, wide-eyed, at the glowing eyes that signified Justice was there.

“Mm, what?” Hawke whined, trying to roll into their sheets tiredly, “I'm doing what you asked.”

“I am aware.”

That far-too-commanding voice again; it was enough by itself to wake Hawke up properly.

“Then wh—“

“I wish to accompany you to get the cat.”

Hawke stared up at Justice, blinking a few times to try and clear the sleep from their eyes. They... hadn't heard that correctly, had they?

“You want to go along?”

Justice nodded. Well, rather, Anders' body nodded. Hawke still wasn't sure where the line between them was. Or if there was even a line at all past voice and how they chose to wake Hawke in the night.

“There is a... particular disposition required.” Justice explained, “This is not to say I do not trust you but I would rather help if I can.”

“So, what am I supposed to do? Knock Anders out in the middle of Lowtown so you can pop in?” Hawke deadpanned.

The spirit managed to replicate the same face Anders made every time Hawke blew raspberries on his stomach; _pure disapproval_. Hawke wondered which one was the original owner of that look; possibly Justice, judging from the severity of it.

“No, Hawke.” Justice said sternly, “I mean now.”

“Now?”

Hawke glanced towards the window; moonlight filtering in and little else but a few street lanterns. It had to be nearly midnight. Going all the way down to Lowtown with Justice seemed, well, risky. But boy if the spirit wasn't determined, already moving to get out of bed and pull on Anders' coat.

“I'm not even sure the kittens would be out right now—“

“A few have taken to sleeping in the Hanged Man's trash.” Justice cut them off, “The one I want is there.”

Hawke sighed tiredly but hauled themselves out of bed and began pulling on their boots. Justice, finished readying himself, watched with some curiosity. Hawke found themselves reminded that they were perhaps the only person since the wardens that Justice had any physical interaction with. They almost asked about it when the spirit spoke up.

“You lace your boots wrong.”

Hawke blinked and glanced up at him. The spirit motioned to their footwear, “That's why the laces are always coming undone.” he said, “It's over, not under.”

They laughed, getting to their feet and grabbing their coat. “Well, I'll have to fix that up later, then.” they replied, looping their arm through Anders' (Justice's?) and setting off for the door.

The spirit was quiet for a moment as they walked, thinking, then replied, “Don't, actually. I like them that way.”

“You want me to trip?” Hawke teased.

“No.” the spirit replied shortly, “It reminds me of someone.”

Hawke didn't pry, sensing that the spirit had shared all he wanted to on the matter, and they made their way to the Hanged Man in relative silence. It was odd, to say the least, but blessedly they managed to avoid any bandits or drunken companions along the way.

The cats proved easy enough to find, nestled in the alleyway between the Hanged Man and whatever restaurant had taken up shop there this month. Calling them over was another story entirely, however.

“Call them over.” Justice all but commanded, motioning to the little furballs down the alley, “Animals are often unnerved by me.”

Hawke frowned and glanced at the cats. One black and one tabby. They already had a hunch which one Justice had in mind.

“I'm... more of a dog person, though.”

Justice made _that face_ again, nose scrunching up, and sighed.

“And yet he loves you so.” he grumbled, reaching out and nudging Hawke's shoulder roughly, “Try anyway. I cannot do it.”

Hawke shied away from the spirit—pride wounded more than their arm—and shot him a pout before glancing back down the alleyway. Oh, how hard could this be? Anders called cats over like it was nothing.

They crept up, getting the cats' attentions before crouching down and holding a hand out. They hadn't bolted yet, a good sign, but Hawke wasn't entirely sure they'd be able to win over all of them. The black kitten was already considering slinking off into the alley from the looks of it.

Hawke thought of Anders' usual methods; that little tongue click. He managed to have such a small volume when speaking to cats. It had to be at least part of it.

They did their best.

“Hey, come here babies.” A soft, soothing voice had to count for something with cats. They felt Justice watching them maybe too intently but kept their attentions on the task at hand.

The black kitten took it upon itself to move further down the alley then, glancing nervously back at them, and Hawke almost felt themselves deflate in defeat before the other kitten crept closer. They held their breath a moment, the kitten craning out to sniff their hand, and only managed to breathe when it rubbed its face against their knuckles.

It looked like it had been a much lighter color at first; some sort of creamy tabby. But currently the poor thing was flea bitten and covered in dirt. They'd have to bathe it before they let Anders hug it. But it seemed willing to go with anything once Hawke gave its ears a tentative little scratch.

When they scooped it up their friend made a return, nervously creeping towards Hawke's boots and sniffing. Hawke stayed still, the tabby rubbing at their coat happily, and waited until the other kitten rubbed against their knee before picking it up as well.

They turned, holding both to their chest, and looked to Justice. The spirit was... Maker, that was a smile, wasn't it?

“See?” Justice asked, “Easy.”

Hawke laughed faintly and held the kittens out to him. “Which one?” they asked.

“Both.” Justice replied simply and turned, already starting back for Hightown.

Hawke blinked, glanced at the kittens, then shrugged and jogged after the spirit. The more the merrier, they supposed.

 

They spent most of the night trying to very quietly bathe cats. Which, as it turns out, is nigh impossible. Justice returned Anders' body to bed as if nothing had happened and left them to their own devices early on. Things only improved when it got early enough for Orana to be up and the elf offered to finish drying and entertain the little fluffballs so Hawke could try to get some sleep.

No such luck, however, given the time they finally got to bed. Anders up in mere hours, flitting about the bedroom like some chipper hummingbird, and not even Hawke's dragon impression as they buried their face in the pillows was enough to convince him to let them sleep in.

“Come on, love, it's a beautiful day.” Anders said as he planted a kiss in their hair, despite all grumbling, “You told me you wanted to eat breakfast with me before I left today.”

They had. But this was before Anders' live-in companion had decided to take them across Lowtown to hunt for cats in the middle of the night. Now, they just wanted to sleep. And they might have tried had they not remembered that whole ordeal in the first place.

Hawke hauled themselves out of bed and promptly slumped against Anders' back, putting most of their weight against him and wrapping their arms around his waist. They nestled their face in the feathers on his coat and mumbled, not too clearly, for him to lead the way.

“Oh, dramatic.” Anders teased, patting at their hands but seemingly relenting as he slowly started towards the door. This manner of walking ended up too difficult, however, and Hawke reluctantly straightened up to walk behind him, one hand holding onto the hem of his coat.

They made it all the way to the table before Orana wandered in, both little kittens trailing behind her and sniffing the air. On sight, Anders' eyes lit up like magic.

“What's this?” he asked, looking between the cats and Hawke as the creamy tabby walked over to paw at his toes, “Hawke?”

Hawke, leaning heavily on their elbows, just smiled and watched Anders gather up both cats and lovingly look them over. Clean and fed they were far more friendly and spunky than they'd been the night before. They'd also probably gotten considerably more sleep than Hawke had... lucky things.

“Justice thought you could use a cat.” Hawke explained, graciously accepting a cup of coffee from Orana, “So, I got you two.”

They'd barely gotten a sip of coffee in before Anders was across the table, peppering their face with kisses and lovingly squishing their cheeks together. All the sleep deprivation in the world was worth his happiness, they decided, as Anders planted a sloppy kiss directly on their lips—coffee breath and all.

“You are too much sometimes.” Anders remarked when they parted, hands still cupping Hawke's face lovingly, “Justice really asked you for help, even?”

Hawke smiled up at him as the black kitten crawled up into their lap and nodded.

“He suggested knighting this one after watching me try to bathe her.” they said, motioning to the kitten nestled in their lap, “I couldn't agree more.”

“I'll take it into consideration.” Anders said with a laugh and dipped down to give Hawke another kiss.


End file.
